Khan

Jack stepped into the bay, dropping a clipboard onto the metal tray. He didn't say anything immediately, which was your first warning sign.

"I can feel you staring at me, you know?"

"Resident," he said softly, smirking. "You missed a signature on the chart for the laceration in Bed 4."

"I did?" You turned around, reaching for the clipboard. "Sorry. I thought I-"

You stopped mid-sentence because he hadn't left any distance between you. He was standing right there, his arms crossed over his chest. And he was staring directly into your eyes.

Jack's stare was deep, intense and completely unabashed.

"You did," he said, not breaking eye contact. "It's fine. Easy fix."

You took the pen from his hand, aiming your eyes firmly at the signature line on the paper. The moment your gaze dropped, you felt the nervous flutter in your stomach flare up.

You knew he noticed.

You knew he knew.

And he knew exactly what his eyes did to you.

"Is there... something else, Dr. Abbot?" you asked, forcing yourself to sign the document with steady handwriting.

"No," Jack replied seamlessly.

You capped the pen and made the mistake of looking back up.

He hadn't moved an inch. His eyes were fixed on yours, holding a warmth that made your breath hitch. A tiny curve tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Jack," you murmured as your cheeks began to burn. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" he asked.

"Staring at me." You looked away toward the door, trying to calm yourself, but you still felt the weight of his attention on you. "God, I hate you," you muttered, massaging your cheeks to hide the blush.

"I know, doll," Jack said, stepping closer. "That’s half the fun."

You flicked your gaze back to him, intending to give him a stern glare, but the sheer intensity of his focus trapped you immediately.

He loved eye contact, demanded it, really, whether he was commanding a trauma team or standing in a quiet corner with you. But right now, there was no emergency. There was only the unmistakable thrill in his expression as he watched the flush spread across your neck.

"I noticed you look at everyone else when you talk to them," Jack pointed out, being playful yet possessive. "You look at Shen, you look at the nurses, you look at the patients. But whenever I stand here, you suddenly find the wall very fascinating."

"Because you make me nervous, Jack," you whispered, a slight laugh breaking through your nerves.

"What? Look at me," he coaxed gently, lowering his head just enough so his eyes remained directly in your line of sight. "Don't look away, can't hear you."

Your pulse hammered in your throat. You tried to hold his gaze, challenging yourself to stick it out.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

His eyes were vibrant by an affection he wasn't trying to hide anymore.

He knew you liked him. He'd known for weeks, and he savored every subtle hint you unwittingly let slip.

The intensity of that feeling made you glance down at the collar of his scrub, and you nervously bit your lip.

A satisfied laugh escaped his lips.

Jack reached out and gently stroked your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting your head.

"Ah-ah," he murmured, guiding your gaze directly into his. "Right here."

“You’re terrible,” you whispered, placing your hand over his face, pushing him away from you.

"I'm a thorough attending," Jack corrected, his eyes narrowed. He leaned in, stopping inches from your face. “And I like having your full attention.”

“You know you always have my full attention,” you admitted quietly, unable to pull away even if you wanted to.

Jack’s smile widened, a victorious feeling taking over him.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, right where the blush was hottest.

"Good girl," he whispered against your skin. "Keep it that way."

He turned and left the room, leaving you standing there, blushing nervously.

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